


1997

by lonelywriterboy



Series: A Friend Like You [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Asexual Character, Asexual Remus, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexual Sirius, Child Abuse, First Meetings, Friendship, Gen, Getting to Know Each Other, High School, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Muggle AU, Self-Harm, Violence, wolfstar, ~basically tagging for all planned future work lol~
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-29 05:06:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3883408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonelywriterboy/pseuds/lonelywriterboy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First part in a muggle AU, set a little in the future of their time.<br/>Sirius is bruised, Remus' cuts aren't from being a werewolf, and their PE teacher is a sadist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1997

**Author's Note:**

> Warning - self harm references and abuse of a 15 year old by his parents. Pre-Wolfstar.

Remus shook as he sat on the toilet seat, resting his head on his hands as he shivered and contemplated what he'd just done. Splatters of red were visible across his pale, skinny legs, and while the bleeding had mostly stopped, a dull throb beat in the fresh cuts, reminding him that he was, in fact, alive. His heart was beating. Red blood cells were doing their best to stop him from dying. Just a shame he couldn't do the same thing himself.

“Remus? Have you almost finished in there? You've been in there for ages!”

The sound of his father's humorous voice jerked Remus into action; he yanked his trousers up and flushed the toilet within seconds.

“Almost, dad!” he called back, dragging a hand across his eyes. His eyelashes were clumped together and his eyes were bloodshot, betraying that he'd been crying moments before. Remus washed his hands with immaculate care, scrubbing the dried patches of blood from his fingers. As he unlocked the door, he grinned at his father, forcing his mouth to twist into a symbol of happiness.

“Sorry about that – I managed to get Deep Heat in my eyes. I had to wash them out.”

Mr Lupin swallowed the lie, and Remus swallowed back guilt. It wasn't the time for guilt.

* * *

 

“Sirius, why on _earth_ aren't you dressed yet? You know we need to get to the memorial service!”

Sirius removed his headphones with a careless ease, tossing them down his bed with a graceful flick.

“What was that, mum? Sorry, I couldn't hear you.”

Mrs Black was a coldly beautiful woman, her high arches and jutting bones making her look unapproachable rather than pretty or bubbly. Still, she was rather better than her husband...

“Give me your headphones.”

With a roll of his eyes, Sirius unplugged the headphones and threw them to his mother, smiling lazily as they sailed past her head.

“Your father can keep these until you learn to behave. You need to get dressed, _now._ We have the memorial service.”

“I never even met the woman, why do I have to go?”

Mrs Black stared incredulously at her oldest. “She was Princess of Wales, Sirius. We must make an appearance, it'd reflect badly on us if we didn't. Christ knows I disliked the woman, but there'll no doubt be connections to be made. Now hurry up, get dressed!”

As she stalked out of the room, Sirius reached under his bed and plucked out another pair of headphones. 

* * *

 

“Mum, can I have a note for PE tomorrow?”

Remus sat down next to his mother and leant his head on her shoulder, sinking into her warmth and comfort. Immediately, she raised a hand to his forehead, checking his temperature.

“What's wrong, love?”

“My...ankle hurts. I think I tripped earlier on the way home, and it's throbbing quite badly.”

Gently, Mrs Lupin turned Remus' face so that he was facing her. “Are you sure?”

Guilt swelled up once more within Remus. “Please, mum...”

“Do you promise that you'll do PE next week?”

Remus nodded eagerly. “Of course I will! I just really, really don't want to do it tomorrow.”

“I'll write you a note, then. Please don't make this a habit, darling, I don't want you getting into trouble.”

As she spoke, she gave her son's leg a gentle rub, and he worked hard to avoid wincing. As the fabric rubbed against the open wounds on his legs, it felt like agony.

“Mum?”

“Yes?”

“Do you have a bandage? If we're going to lie, we may as well go full hog.”

Mrs Lupin laughed, and jokily cuffed Remus on the shoulder. “No I don't, you cheeky git! There's lying and there's ridiculousness, Remus.” 

She was smiling.

* * *

 

Orion Black's hand flew out and slapped Sirius so hard across the face that he fell backwards, his hands landing hard on a cabinet that he used to steady himself.

“You are disgusting. How _dare_ you behave like that at a memorial service? You never think, do you? Never think before you act, before you speak. You're worse than the little bastards that live on council estates and knock up girls before they're sixteen, you're a _nothing._ ”

Sirius glowered at his father during the speech, his hands firmly by his sides – there was no way he was going to rub his cheek and give his father the satisfaction of knowing that he had hurt him. His white shirt was rumpled and there were dust marks across the back of his blazer, but he still had a look of casual handsomeness about him, barely spoiled by his violently red cheeks and the spots dotting his greasy forehead.

“I didn't do anything wrong.” Sirius replied, bracing himself against the cabinet in case another slap came. It didn't. Instead, Orion spat on the floor.

“You performed a sexual act at a _memorial service_. How depraved are you?”

“Kissing someone is hardly a 'sexual act', father. It's not like I banged her on the-”

Another slap came, echoing around the small office. The clunky computer on the desk made a whizzing noise which sounded to Sirius like bees. As his father screamed in his face, spittle flying at him, he concentrated on the bees. Tomorrow they were outside for PE, playing rugby. There'd probably be bees then...

“Are you even _listening_ to me? Are you capable of focusing for two seconds at a time, or were you in the corner picking your nose when the brains were handed out?”

Orion gripped Sirius by the hair, twisting it painfully with his long, slender fingers. Sirius noticed that his father had a small tattoo on his inner wrist, a simple black emblem of flowers, something he'd never been close enough to see before. He incorporated flowers into his thoughts. Buzzy little bees fluttering around some beautiful tulips, the sun shining on them-

_Crash!_ Orion slapped his son once more, hard, before stalking over to his desk.

“I wash my hands of you, you nasty little bastard. Get out of my office.”

* * *

 

Lawrence Wilson had become a PE teacher when he was significantly younger, and fitter. He had had a passion, a zest, and had been  _so_ eager to teach. However, weeks, months and years of stupid, belligerent students who were lazy and brought in notes at the drop of a hat had hardened him.

“Remus, I saw you running about during break time. Go and get some spare kit from the office. James, this is the third week running you've claimed that you've got inflated testicles – I honestly don't care any more. Go and get some spare kit. Sirius, man up, it's a bruise on your face. Go and get some kit.”

Michael sloped off, grumbling to himself, leaving Sirius and Remus to walk to the office together.

“What a _dick_.” grumbled Sirius, folding his arms as he stormed towards the office. Remus laughed, but Sirius was off on a rant and so he couldn't respond. “What an absolute _wanker_. Why do people like him take responsibility for kids if they obviously don't like them? What a fucking _twat_.”

“I taken it you're not a fan of Mr Wilson, then?”

“Is anyone?” Sirius asked aggressively, throwing his hands into the air in disbelief. “Did you hear that last week, he made an entire class run laps because one kid was slow in getting changed?”

“Really?”

As they talked, Sirius realised it was the first time he'd ever really spoken to Remus. They'd shared several classes for four years, but he'd never said a word to him before. They hung out with completely different crowds, and there'd never been any reason for them to interact. As Sirius began to tell the story of the unfortunate class running laps, he suddenly stopped.

“I know how we can get out of PE. We need to get changed first.”

Remus grinned and nodded. “James too?”

Sirius thought for a moment, before shaking his head. “Nah. It's a two person game. Get changed, and then I'll set the plan into motion.”

* * *

 

“Sir! Sir! I'm going to be sick, I need to go to the toilet!”

Sirius bolted from the room as soon as the words left his mouth, leaving a rather bewildered PE teacher behind him. Remus was stood awkwardly to the side of the room, his hands covering his wounded thigh, but he stepped up as soon as Sirius left.

“I'll go and check that he's okay, sir.”

Without waiting for a response, Remus dodged out of the room, grinning from ear to ear. Sirius was leant against the wall, arms folded, smiling as he awaited Remus.

“Now we just have to sit in the toilets for an hour and try not to attract any attention.”

Remus nodded, feeling slightly anxious. He would never normally break the rules, but there was something about Sirius' attitude that was utterly infectious and he too was filled with merriment.

“Won't that be a bit...grim?”

“Better than running around a bloody field!”

Remus noticed that every now and then, Sirius's eyes would stray down to his injured leg. In the cold light of day, it didn't look too bad to Remus – a scattering of cuts, none too deep, none of which would probably scar. In return, he allowed his eyes to wander to the bruise on the boy's face, which was blooming magnificently into a great purple mass on his cheek. As they entered the toilets (and the same small cubicle, where Sirius locked the door and then sat on the lid of the toilet, leaving Remus to lean against the wall), Sirius finally said,

“I'll tell you if you tell me.”

“What?”

“The bruise. The cuts. If we're going to do this every week, we have to have some trust.”

Remus made a noise of astonishment. “Every week? I didn't-”

“Is it a deal?”

Remus shrugged. “You first.”

“I went to a memorial service for Princess Diana last night, and when my father caught me snogging a waitress in the loo, he backhanded me a few times.”

Eyes growing wide, Remus stared at Sirius. “Like, he hit you? And, wait- Princess Diana?”

“Tell your side, then we can talk.”

Silently cursing the weird honour-system type code that most (gross, annoying) teenage boys seemed to use, Remus spoke. “I did them myself.”

“Why?” Sirius asked, staring at the wounds which peeked out from the short PE shorts as if mocking their owner. Remus sighed heavily. “Because. Now – why were you at a Princess Diana memorial service?”

“My mum and dad are Lord and Lady something of something – they're posh and they know it. Now, my turn. Why did you do it?”

“I don't want to talk about it.”

Sirius reached out and ran a feather-light finger down the rough surface of Remus' leg. There were many flat, silvery scars on the surface, stretching out like spiders webs on the white skin. Remus flinched.

“Please – don't touch them.”

Sirius withdrew his hand, staring at the cuts. He couldn't imagine why someone would intentionally hurt themselves...then again, he couldn't imagine why someone would intentionally slap their son to punish them, but his father did.

“I think I should go back to PE. Mr Wilson will be wondering where I am...”

Remus turned to open the door to the cubicle, but was stopped by Sirius touching his hand gently.

“I'm sorry. I mean – I shouldn't have asked. I'm not very good with words.” Sirius gave a frustrated sigh. “Please stay?”

* * *

 

“Sirius?”

Sirius glanced up from the pavement. He'd been glowering at it as he slowly walked out of the school gates, contemplating what'd happen when he got home. He'd rushed out of the door in the morning before his parents or Regulus could see him, and he knew that he was in for it. Screaming, accusations, many more slaps to follow the few from his father, and probably some inordinately ridiculous punishment to carry out at the weekend, like cleaning the house from top to bottom despite the presence of their rather nasty old cleaner, Mr Kreacher. 

“What?”

“Do you want to come back to mine? I've got a Playstation, we could play on that for a bit.”

Sirius didn't like to mention that he had a Sega Dreamcast, which wouldn't even be released to the public for at least another twelve months, possibly longer. He had mates, of course, but none seemed as kind as Remus. After the initial awkwardness they'd ended up in spasms of laughter together, clutching their stomachs as they struggled to stay silent. Then, as they went to change, they'd simply parted ways, not saying anything else.

“I'd love to.” Sirius replied. Doubts immediately flooded his mind – his father'd kill him if he was late home – but he pushed them down. Tonight was his night.

“I only live a few streets away, and you can call your parents if you need to-” Remus trailed off when he saw the expression on his new found friend's face. Evidently Sirius would not be phoning his parents.

“Do you think...do you think I could maybe stay for dinner?”

Remus' face brightened. “Yeah! My mum and dad will probably say yes, they'll be glad that I have a friend over – they don't really like many of my friends.”

As the two walked down the street together, bumping arms and chatting, both knew that they had found a kindred spirit.

 


End file.
